I recently lost a very good friend to cancer. It was a death that I feared, and a death that I had convinced myself was not imminent. I was sure she would remain with us, drinking her juices and taking her vitamins. She would be here for our annual girls’ weekends. We would continue to have conversations about relationships and music and meditation and life. I would continue to laugh at her funny stories and her unique turns of phrase. She would continue to tell us about her latest desires; she would go to see the polar bears in Churchill, Manitoba. She would create a small photography business. She would be a Nana to her new grandbaby. She would not let cancer get in the way of her dreams. She would be here. Period.
But cancer did get in the way. It altered the trajectory of her life. She didn’t get to do everything she wanted. She had to leave us when she wasn’t ready. When none of us were ready.
Death is absolutely heartbreaking. And, unfortunately, it’s life.
We toddle along on this big blue ball, day after day, never knowing what will be around the corner. We may think we do, and we may strive to, but, in reality, we have very little control over anything. Most of us don’t know when it will end, and it rarely turns out as we expect.
So what are we supposed to do?
Well, we can rail at the injustice of it all. We can cry and scream and say it’s not fair. And we’d be right. But where would that get us?
At the memorial service, the passage from Ecclesiastes was read. “There is a season for everything, a time for every occupation under heaven. A time for tears, a time for laughter; a time for mourning, a time for dancing”
Life can be hard. There will be storms. But there will also be rainbows.
I find myself spending more time thinking of my friend’s laughter. When I feel hollow with sadness, I think of the incredible things that she did accomplish while she was here. I think of how much love she generated while she walked this earth. The love that is unending. The love that we share, those of us left behind.
We have this moment and this moment only. How are we going to spend it? Me, I want to dance.